This is one of those movies that when you’re done with it, it makes you wonder what exactly you were really supposed to take away from it. I’m not going to lie, I also felt this way when reading a Pinkalicious book recently. And what further these things have in common is they’re both about horrible girls being horrible.

Bachelorette is about four friends who seem to, at heart, genuinely like each other, but I don’t really know why. Kirsten Dunst is the bitchy, über-type A, bulimic stick-in-the-mud who spends the whole film screeching at whomever she can, but managing to pull everything together because anything else would be unacceptable. Isla Fisher is a slutty, suicidal idiot who admits she doesn’t understand anything anyone is saying around her and gets so wasted she passes out on a regular basis. Lizzy Caplan is a hot mess coke head who’s still hung up on her high school boyfriend ten years later. The only functional one is the Justin Bartha of the piece, the bride, Rebel Wilson, but she’s still friends with the mean girls who called her Pigface behind her back in high school. However, she eats like a normal person, doesn’t have any drug problems and is in a functional relationship with a lovely guy. But she’s clearly the Peter Pettigrew of the group, only this group would have all been Death Eaters and she would have defected to the good guys.

I think perhaps it’s harder than people expect to write a story about mean girls with any sort of balance, and somehow this one has come out the other end with just the worst people you could possibly imagine.

Thankfully, the men of the piece don’t fair much better here, as the girls find their counterparts in supreme douchebag James Marsden, insecure Kyle Boehmer and equally hung up Adam Scott. Actually, false, the men are, on the whole, less terrible people, but that’s not saying much. Adam Scott manages to deliver a more awkward romantic-gesture speech than the one he gave in Friends With Kids, this one actually detailing how he put his penis into her vagina repeatedly, in front of the entire wedding. James Marsden’s character truly is a terrible human being, worse than the girls perhaps, and what does it get him? Laid, twice, and with Kirsten Dunst’s phone number in the end. Which is just true to life, I suspect, so I can’t be mad, really.

However, I will say this movie was never boring. And maybe I had just napped enough today but I didn’t fall asleep once. Also, Kirsten Dunst is best when she’s playing horrible, so this was really like the greatest thing she’s done since Interview with the Vampire. But I would just stick to watching Bridesmaids for now and hope that all of these people will be doing better things soon.

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0/5 Sleeping Pants